


Catalyst

by most_curiously_blue_eyes



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 13:52:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1187682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/most_curiously_blue_eyes/pseuds/most_curiously_blue_eyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the fourth of January, in the midst of a nuclear winter that has lasted for approximately three hundred years, an unusual, blue-eyed child is born early into the colony of survivors in the underground of an abandoned research facility. Twenty-two years later, the child, grown into a man incapable of sitting and waiting for death, sets out to change the world and just about changes the universe. It all starts with Jim Kirk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catalyst

It all starts with Jim Kirk.

On the fourth of January, in the midst of a nuclear winter that has lasted for approximately three hundred years, an unusual, blue-eyed child is born early into the colony of survivors in the underground of an abandoned research facility. On that same day, the child's father and the best Runner the colony has, George Kirk, dies tragically - and mysteriously - on the surface, but not before he manages to deliver enough supplies to support the colony for years to come. The only thing left of him is the map he used to carry with him, and it is handed to his son as soon as the child can walk.

Within the next twenty-two uneventful, gloomy years, only sparse supply runs are conducted and they rarely go beyond the known territories. The colony lives on rationed food, the energy resources are harder and harder to come by. The team of Runners that went to the surface two years ago never came back and a search party was never sent out in fear of sharing their ill fate.

Jim Kirk, the blue-eyed, orphaned son of George and Winona Kirk (both deceased), wakes up one day and decides it's time for someone to go outside and look for a future better than eventual starvation and frostbite. That someone, he realizes, must be him. He's not a Runner, there are barely any Runners left in the colony and they're all inactive anyway, but he has an advantage most of those born underground do not: his eyes can see in the sunlight of the surface as well as in the dark of night. 

(He knows that because he tried. When he was thirteen, he sneaked to the surface for a few glorious moments when the sun was high up in the sky and the world looked so open and inviting. Nobody ever found out about his excursion. He kept it, as a treasure, to himself., along with his father's old map nobody cared about.)

Accompanied by his friend, Doctor Leonard 'Bones' McCoy, whose young daughter has fallen sick and needs medication, food and warmth, Jim sets out to discover the wonders and terrors of the surface world. It is his twenty-second birthday.

Shielded from the unforgiving, freezing winter by protective gear, breathing through a gas mask, fearing predators and radiation, the two lonely figures head north. According to the map of Jim's father's (real paper, laminated to prevent wear, printed before the _calamity, with handwritten notes and many creases_ ), there used to be an anti-crisis underground complex, complete with quarters for a hundred thousand people, a research centre, a small factory, a food farm and a library - a regular underground city of Lesser San Francisco, protected from the nuclear hell above, running on renewable energy resources. Jim doubts it still exists.

(He doubted, for a while, that it had ever existed: if there were other humans out there, humans that led comfortable enough lives, why would they not come to save the others? Why would they not work towards returning the world to its proper shape?

He understands, now, that the world is the shape it needs to be: the shape humans molded it to. He has read the books. He knows how the story goes. He knows there's nothing left for humanity but survival, pure and simple.)

They still head there, for a start. They have to see for themselves, to make sure.

'Damn it, Jim,' says Bones on the dusk of their first night away from home. 'I'm a doctor, not a Runner. Even with this protection shades, I won't be able to see in the full light of day.'

Jim knows. He also knows that they can't afford to lose much time, especially not here, in the wasteland of tall, metal skeletons of skyscrapers that rise into the sky above, a dark, stark contrast against the sunrise that already paints the air bright red. Jim knows colours differently than those born underground, than Bones himself. He knows their names and he knows what the names correspond to. In the sky, brightened by the rising sun, he recognizes the colour of freshly spilled blood. 

After a few more hours of hiding in the shadows of monumental buildings of steel and glass, hours which are an unending wonder to Jim and a mess of blind blundering to Bones, they are found by other humans.

'You're lucky to be alive so far into the day,' says the girl who leads the group of Runners. She's small and agile, her voice harsh but pleasant. Jim has just seen her take out a predator ten times her size with nothing but a blade on an elongated stick. He's awed.

 

* * *

 

She takes them to the complex and Jim discovers, for the first time, that he's not the smartest person in the world - he's not the last person in the world who reads for kicks. The library is really there and it's constantly full of people. It's like a little dream come true.

He meets Christopher Pike, a man who says he knew his father. Pike is what they call the General: he gives orders to the Runners, he runs the complex, he decides the fates of everyone under his command. Everyone looks up to him. He keeps them safe. 

It's much smaller than legends said, but Jim learns that either way, over three thousand people live and work there. Most of them are descendants of scientists who designed and perfected the complex; they don't lose hope, even now, that they will one day manage to counteract the effects of radiation and maybe retake the surface world. For now, they continue to concentrate on survival of the species by designing better gear for the Runners... among other, much bigger projects that they are understandably reluctant to talk about to Jim, an outsider.

Pike almost immediately agrees to help with relocation of Jim and Bones' colony, though, outsiders or not; the two set out into the winter again as soon as the night dusks, accompanied by Uhura - the tiny Runner leader - and Uhura's group: Hikaru Sulu, Pavel Chekov, Montgomery Scott and Carol Marcus. They make a great team, Jim notices; they are efficient in combat and they do not get exhausted. With their help, it takes less time to get back to the colony. The mutated predators they encounter on the way stand no chance (although, okay, one almost managed to take a bite out of Jim's ass – fortunately, Uhura likes Jim more than she lets on, because she didn't hesitate a second to save him).

 

* * *

 

During the relocation, however, Jim gets lost in a sudden snowstorm. Just his luck. Without a compass, without any backup filters left for his mask, he slowly realizes he's going to die. He mentally screams, he kicks trees and hates his fate until he's sure he's going to suffocate. And then, right when he's about to sit down, resigned, on a pile of most certainly radioactive snow and wait for the inevitable to come, he's found again.

'You need to come with me,' says the tall stranger who comes out of nowhere and escorts Jim all the way, gently pulling on his wrist with his own hand, covered with what looks like a cloth glove. But that is not the weirdest thing about him, Jim notes, and he doesn't know if he should be readily following him when he realizes this fact: the stranger breathes the air without a mask. In fact, he seems not to have any protective wear, sans the layered clothing he is wearing against the cold. His unobstructed eyes, Jim sees, are brown – the usual brown of the children born underground, and yet he appears to have the same kind of vision Jim does.

He's an enigma. Jim is curious, and his curiosity has always been the driving force behind his actions.

 

* * *

 

Once they reach their destination – and Jim has no idea what the place is, other than, for the time being, calling it a _room_ – the stranger motions for Jim to remove the gas mask. The filter is almost done, making it more difficult to breathe by the minute, so Jim does so without hesitation – only to start choking immediately. The air, full of radiation, burns as it invades his lungs and Jim doubles over, _throws up_ , and he almost doesn't feel the sharp sting in his neck until a few seconds later, when all of a sudden, he can breathe again.

'This hypospray consists of a compound which counteracts the effects of toxic radiation contained in the Terran atmosphere. It will wear off eventually, but you are safe for approximately seven hundred hours,' the stranger says when Jim looks at him in question. 

He looks different to any people Jim has ever met. His sharp eyebrows make him look imperious, while his bowl-cut hair slightly counteracts the first impression: it should look stupid, really, only somehow, it doesn't. His whole face is flushed from the cold, or Jim thinks it is, only it's flushed _green_ and it makes no sense whatsoever. And then, just when he's about to ask, Jim notices the _ears_.

'They're pointy,' he announces unnecessarily, which earns him a look and an eyebrow lift.

'Indeed,' the stranger confirms. 'It is, you will find, a trait which is not peculiar for a member of my species.'

Within the next few hours, Jim learns that he has been effectively saved by aliens.

 

* * *

 

Spock – that is the stranger's name – is apparently from a planet called Vulcan. Along with a big expedition, he has come to Earth in order to check if there were any humans left, still alive on the mostly dead planet. According to his story, Vulcans have been visiting Earth regularly between and after the war that ended the world; yet, before now, any contact with humans has been strictly forbidden by the Federation of Planet, as it would have fallen in volition of what they called “the Prime Directive”. 

Jim frankly thinks it's bullshit and he doesn't hesitate to say so.

'Your distaste for the situation is not illogical and, indeed, understandable to a certain degree,' Spock admits. 'The Vulcan High Council has been trying to press the Federation into sanctioning a first contact with your civilization so that a higher number could be saved, for one hundred and eight Terran years. We have continuously pointed out the irrationality and needless cruelty of forcing your species to continue its difficult existence with no immediate means of improvement and development. Finally, after heavy negotiations, we have secured the permission needed to start this mission.'

Spock has this weird way of talking, where he chooses big words Jim usually only sees in ancient texts, which makes him wonder where the hell an extraterrestrial being could have learned English. 

'My mother is a member of your species,' Spock explains when Jim asks about it. 'My father found a group of who you call _Runners_ a distance away from any shelter. He could not remain neutral when the group was attacked by a number of mutated predators. Yet, since he was not allowed to reveal himself to the natives, in order not to breach the Prime Directive, he brought them on board his ship and, having gained their permission and trust, he took them along on the trip back to Vulcan.'

'That's,' Jim starts, but he doesn't really know what he wants to say. 

Spock observes him with a neutral kind of curiosity. 

'I just,' Jim tries again. He shakes his head. 'I just can't help but _envy_ them, okay? That group of Runners,' he sighs. 'I wish I could just... leave it all and run off to some distant planet that's not all fucked up.'

'Your desire is logical,' Spock concedes. 'If you wish, I can arrange for your transport to our ship, which is orbiting this planet as we speak.'

Jim shakes his head, this time in clear refusal. 'I can't leave them here. You've seen what kind of dump this place is. There's over three thousand people, including my friends, living underground. Can you take them all?'

'No,' Spock says, confirming Jim's suspicions. 

'I thought so. What's the plan, then? You come to Earth, talk to us lowly humans, offer to take a few of us back to your awesome planet and leave the rest – the majority – to fend for themselves in a toxic wasteland of eternal winter, with no hope to survive much longer?' Jim asks. He wishes to be angry, but in fact, he just feels resigned. 

'Our plan is to help your species reclaim the lands on the surface by conquering the nuclear winter and adapting to the new environment the planet exhibits,' Spock reveals. 'Will you let me meet your leader?'

That is how, after Jim is sufficiently rested and fed (he might have never seen such an amount of vegetables in his life and he wishes he could have kept the whole meal down instead of promptly throwing it up in a bad case of his stomach not handling real foods; Spock appeared morbidly curious throughout the whole thing, and Jim had a distant thought that this guy must be a scientist. Of course, according to him, the whole planet Vulcan was very scientifically-oriented indeed. Jim would have to find out at some point.), he dons the thermal clothing provided by the Vulcans and leads Spock out into the nuclear winter that shows no signs of ceasing any time soon.

 

 

* * *

 

From stories told in the colony, both by his caretakers and his peers, Jim knows that there didn't use to be a harsh winter season in San Francisco before the war ended with the world collapsing into chaos. Whatever the city had been, Jim can barely see anything but snow and skeletons of ancient building around him as he braves against the cold wind blowing straight at him and slowing his progression. Spock, apparently, is not affected by the relentless gusts, at least not as much as Jim is. It might be frustrating. Most of all, it's making Jim envious, because he doesn't want to be affected, he wants to stop for a moment and simply take it all in. 

It's the first time he feels the movement of air, wild and tidal, against the skin of his face. It's both terrifying and exhilarating. He can't breathe, but it's different from the limitations of the gas mask filters, or the radiation. His eyes are tearing up and he almost can't see, but it's so different from the dark tunnels of the underground complex, not as impenetrable, not as dangerous.

Spock is with him when the night falls and the winds die down. The dark sky above is cloudless and for the first time in his life, Jim sees the stars. More than the wind, more than the cold, the view takes his breath away and he's in love. Spock shows him Vulcan, the planet like a distant speckle of silver dust on the black canvas, and Jim can almost imagine travelling through space, can almost believe in the future that might or might not await him, someday.

 

* * *

 

The complex is further to the east than Jim remembers, but they find it eventually. By then, Jim knows he can never return to his old life. He can never go back to the underground lairs his people have been living in for the last three hundred years. The stench of the stale air down the steel ladder makes him want to throw up. It's too hot, too dark, too _unnatural_. 

'We were never supposed to survive this long,' Jim murmurs to Spock. 'It should have wiped us all out. We live like cockroaches here, like rats, hiding under the ground and eating scraps. I'm the youngest from my colony, you know? There can be no further kids without inbreeding. Isn't this pathetic? That's what we brought upon ourselves. We could have had the stars, but instead? We have this pit down here and the wastelands above.'

Spock doesn't reply, but it's okay, since Jim never expected him to.

 

 

* * *

 

'Damn it, Jim! Where have you been?' Bones greets them as soon as Jim locates him in one of the labs on the lower level of the complex. 'And who's that?' He asks, giving Spock a suspicious look, right after he's done checking if Jim's still in one piece.

Jim tells him everything. Spock interrupts to correct him twice. Jim corrects his correction both times and laughs at the purely offended expression – hint of expression? Vulcans, Spock told him, don't feel, or maybe just don't show emotion like humans do – on his face. He also laughs at Bones, because his reactions are precious.

'You're high,' Bones concludes. 'You used the same filter for too long and now you're high on lack of oxygen.'

'You're the doctor, Bones,' Jim says, grinning cheekily, 'you should know it's the opposite that gets you high.'

'It's both!' McCoy bellows at him. 

Spock just looks at them, silent and calculating, probably wondering how he managed to land himself with such illogical creatures. Or maybe not. Jim wonders if Spock's maybe already used to this kind of behaviour – after all, isn't his own mother human as well? And isn't that a fascinating story. Jim would love to hear the full account one day. Perhaps there will be time later. If he has his way, there's a whole lifetime of fascinating stories before them.

 

* * *

 

Because Pike is out on a Run – and Jim didn't know that the man was still doing Runs, but apparently, old habits die hard on some people - Spock actually stays with them in the complex for the next three nights. On the first night, as the two enter the small quarters assigned to Jim, Spock notices the ancient chess set on the table. He proposes a match, although Jim can tell he doesn't expect much of it.

When Jim wins, there is definitely an expression of – disbelief? Annoyance? Or both? - on Spock's pale face. Jim actually thinks it's adorable, so he offers a rematch. He wins again and then once more.

'This is illogical,' Spock announces after he's in checkmate for the fourth time in a row. 'Your playing style is completely irrational. With your chaotic strategy, you should not be able to last more than three turns.'

'What strategy?' Jim asks and grins at him. 

'You – do you not employ a strategy to defeat me?' Spock asks, eyebrows rising high into his hairline. It's obvious he's surprised. 

Jim decides he enjoys this. A lot. 'Maybe I do. Or maybe I don't. Why don't you watch and find out?'

Spock frowns and re-sets the pieces on the board. They play again. Jim loses on purpose, just to see how the Vulcan will react. As a result, he has the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to watch an irritated alien pretend not to be irritated at all. 

'That thing about Vulcans not feeling emotion?' He brings up conversationally. 'Utter bullshit.'

'You will find,' Spock replies, tone neutral, but Jim can feel the chill that suddenly fills the air, 'that I am not always the perfect embodiment of my species' traits due to my hybrid nature.'

They change the subject. The chessboard lays forgotten until two nights later, when they play and Jim loses honestly for the first time. Spock touches his hand after the match. It feels weirdly nice. Jim wins the next three matches.

 

* * *

 

Spock is, as it turns out, just what the complex needs at the moment. With his excessive, advanced scientific knowledge that he claims is natural for Vulcans, he quickly earns himself a pretty permanent invitation to the labs at any convenient time. Jim, who feels somewhat responsible for the Vulcan, accompanies him there and nobody protests: it seems the scientists easily accepted that Jim and Spock are basically joined at the hip (or at least Bones claims so; Jim figures the doctor's just grumpy, because he sleeps less now that his daughter is healing – the medication they've applied in the complex is working perfectly well, but it causes temporal insomnia).

During one of the visits in the labs, they learn what it is exactly that Jim, as an outsider, was not supposed to know before: the HUMANITY program and the true purpose of the Runners. 

'They collect human DNA samples from the outside,' one of the scientists, Gary Mitchell, says. He's got an ID pinned to his breast pocket that says he's an intern. Jim estimates the man's age to be slightly above his own. 'The purpose of the program is to create life. Due to limitation in the number of alive specimens, humankind generally can't reproduce in a natural manner without inbreeding and tainting the genome, right? But we're basically on the verge of extinction, so we had to think up of a different method. Someone's grandfather came up with a brilliant idea: genetic engineering. After many trials and errors, we got it right finally. For almost two decades now, we have been successfully producing genetically engineered babies. Chekov is one of them. Oh, and Carol Marcus. She was the first generation.'

Jim's eyes widen and he looks at his Vulcan companion. 

Spock just nods, though. 'The logic of such a strategy is sound. The introduction of outside addition to the genetic pool prevents the degeneration of the human genome that would take place were in-breeding to factor into re-population. This kind of diversity preserves the species. I command you for pursuing such a worthwhile endeavour as a personal career,' he addresses Gary Mitchell directly.

Jim purses his lips. 

'What else could he do?' He says and shrugs. 'He doesn't look like much of a Runner to me.'

Spock blinks. Jim blinks back, because frankly, he has no idea why he has just said that. But it's too late to take it back, so he just remains silent. 

Although when Mitchell glares at him and says, 'Well, neither do you, Kirk. You're just a pretty free-loader with a famous dad,' he can't help but retort:

'At least I can see in broad daylight.'

'A trait that's gonna get you cut up, split into basic cells and reconstructed into thousands of blue-eyed, pretty babies once Pike decides you're not his pet anymore,' Mitchell informs him with a smug smirk.

'This is not going to happen,' Spock states. He touches Jim's hand briefly, just a brush of fingers really, likely meant to reassure – and then gently pushes him out of the lab and follows him. 

He does not speak of Gary Mitchell again.

 

* * *

 

Pike comes back eventually with his team, irritated and empty-handed. He listens to Spock's story and gladly accepts his help, but quickly loses his interest in favour of something he has up his sleeve, since aliens are apparently too much for him to consider right now, after years of having to deal with the world on his own. He demands to see George Kirk's old map late on their third night in the complex, so Jim shows him. It seems that this map is, for some reason, much better than any found to date – more detailed, with useful additions by Jim's father and the map's owners that came before him. 

'It's a treasure map, son. You don't even realize how valuable it is,' Pike tells Jim as he gracefully accepts the map from his hands; he's smiling warmly, like a father, and Jim can't help but grin right back. It feels good to have even a shadow of a parent again.

What interests Pike is a bunker, located much further to the north, beyond the preying grounds of mutants. According to some old legends and rumours, the bunker used to serve as an armoury and could store up to a ton of various weapons, mostly firearms. There have been many Runs in the past with the one goal of finding the bunker, yet nobody has managed to find it before. 

The map shows its location spot on: a tiny star is hand-drawn on a seemingly random, inconspicuous hilltop and the legend reference reads, in George Kirk's handwriting, _point zero_. 

'Uhura,' Pike orders and hands the woman the map. 'Assemble your team. Take your best people, but only volunteers. I'm sorry I can't give you a choice in this: you're the best I have. This mission is the most dangerous one I have ever sent a team on,' he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. 'It is also the most important one. It's a chance for us to fight back.'

'You can count on me, sir,' Uhura salutes and smiles. 'You can count on us,' she corrects herself. She carefully folds the map and leaves, nodding at Jim and Spock where they stand.

'Will they be okay?' Jim demands of Pike after she's gone. 'Because if you just sent them off to die...'

'I wouldn't have ordered them to go there, son,' Pike replies calmly, 'if I weren't absolutely certain they can do it. Uhura is our best shot. Don't doubt her. When she's back, we can all talk about the Vulcans. Is that good enough?'

Jim agrees and, fortunately, so does Spock.

 

* * *

 

They meet up with Bones on the following day and have a meal that consists of something synthetic and completely devoid of taste, but full of nutrients and vitamins. Jim hates it, but says nothing, because he can tell Spock hates is just as much (if not more, used as he is to real food with a variety of flavours), yet accepts the rations with cool gratitude. Then, when they're finished, Bones takes them down to the labs and introduces a female scientist around his age, Doctor Lester.

The woman has an interesting theory. Jim looks at her with a mix of doubt and awe.

'Basically, what she's saying,' he translates for Bones, who is a brilliant doctor, but a theoretical physicist – not so much, 'is that the nuclear winter ended decades, if not centuries ago.'

'That is precisely the conclusion we have drawn from our research as well,' Spock says, somewhat indignant. Jim could swear that the Vulcan is fishing for his attention, which... really doesn't make sense, because he always has Jim's attention anyway. 

Still, Jim beams at him.

'That's all fine and dandy,' Bones says, and Jim can definitely hear the mockery in his voice, 'but have any of you guys actually been **out there** recently, or was it just me? Now, I might be a doctor, not a specialist on nuclear winters, but that? Looks very much like nuclear winter to me.'

'And yet,' Spock speaks up before the scientist can as much as open her mouth, and – yeah, his eyes are trained on Jim as he talks. 'We have established with ninety-seven point thirteen per cent probability rate that the current state of this planet is artificially induced and maintained by a third party.'

'Eh? What third party?' Jim asks, bewildered. The possibility, now he's heard of it, is terrifying. He didn't have time to consider it before, but now he does, and he's not comforted with the conclusion: there must exist hundreds of inhabited planets in the outer space, and their inhabitants may not always be as peaceful as the Vulcans. Probably more than half of them are technologically advanced as well.

Shit doesn't look so good for Earth.

'Klingons,' Spock replies tonelessly to Jim's question and, yes, he has mentioned Klingons in one of their conversations: the blood-thirsty, conquest-oriented, proud race of warriors who continue to build an Empire in opposition to the Federation. 

'Weren't they supposed to conquer planets? With battles and everything?' Jim asks. 

Spock shakes his head. 'Ever since the Klingon Empire was conquered two hundred and twelve Terran years ago by the army of Augments led by Khan Noonien Singh – the same man, by the way, whose actions resulted in the nuclear war here on Terra – the Federation has been struggling to maintain peace. Khan's methods of conquest are quite extraordinary – that is to say, oftentimes, the High Council is unable to recognize the events for what they are before a planet is truly lost to us,' he explains. 'Six planets have met this fate in the last decade. Khan is a man possessed of great patience, judging by the fact that his tactically superior conquests tend to require years of slow work. The current situation with Terra certainly does fit his modus operandi.'

'How so?' Asks the scientist – Janice, her name is Janice Lester, Jim reminds himself – and everyone looks expectantly to Spock.

The Vulcan does not disappoint. 'Terra is located near the edge of the Federation's sphere of influence. This strategical placement of the planet makes it susceptible to outside attacks; however, it is also under heavier protection than planets outside the Federation-controlled space. Because of this, Khan had to remain undetected. He has managed to plant a device – or multiple devices, which is more likely – to the planet's surface, most probably during the chaos caused by the post-war events. This device is responsible for maintaining the state of perpetual nuclear winter. The final goal of the operation is to allow all sentient native inhabitants to die out before the device is deactivated and the planet, under the care of Klingon colonists, returns to its original, untainted state.'

'I see,' Jim says slowly. 'If the planet doesn't have sentient life forms, it's not conquest, it's colonization,' he narrows his eyes. 'But he didn't count on the HUMANITY program. He didn't know about the equipment left in the underground labs.'

'Now wait a minute. If what you guys are saying is true,' Bones interjects, 'it means there are these other, nasty aliens walking around up there like they own the planet.'

'Yeah, probably. What's your point?' Jim asks.

'My point, kid, is that Nyota's team is out there right this moment. They're on their way to that bunker from your dad's map, remember?' The doctor reminds him and Jim pales.

'The bunker! That's it!' He exclaims.

He's rushing to see Pike within seconds and Spock is on his heels.

 

* * *

 

The snowstorm subsided while they were cooped up underground and the midday sun is shining through a layer of clouds. Jim sighs, still unused to the light of day, and looks worriedly to Spock. 

'I gave them the map,' he says simply. He's pretty sure he remembers the coordinates of the bunker, but if he's wrong, they may get irrevocably lost. 

'Vulcans are possessed of an eidetic memory,' Spock informs him dryly. 'Fortunately, that is a trait I do share with my father's species.'

Jim is reminded of their chess matches and he smiles at the Vulcan. 'You're amazing, Mister Spock,' he tells him and touches his hand, mimicking the way Spock has done the same thing numerous times before. He gets a blank look in return and it makes him laugh despite the gravity of the situation. 

'When we're safely back, I'll tell you my secret chess strategy,' he promises. 

'You previously informed me there was no strategy,' Spock reminds him.

Jim winks. 'I'm full of mysteries,' he says simply.

Spock does not disagree.

They travel in silence after that, the fast pace exhausting to Jim who's not used to running through the snow; yet, the adrenaline is pushing him further when he almost loses all willpower to go on. Uhura, he thinks, is a friend. They all kind of are. Maybe not like Bones and Spock (who's become such a permanent part of Jim's life in the last few days that he doesn't know if he can function without the Vulcan anymore), but there's the potential; when they're all safe, they're going to have a party. A great party with alcohol, maybe. And they're going to become friends.

(And they're all going to see their world returned to its former glory.)

It's cold and dark when they decide to stop their pursuit for the night. Jim is barely keeping up with Spock by then, the muscles in his legs are protesting with every additional step he forces himself to take and he's wet and freezing. There's nothing left of his adrenaline rush, so when Spock points to what looks like ruins of one of the twentieth century houses that appear to litter the area and suggests it for their shelter, Jim's so grateful he could kiss him.

He doesn't, but still. He could.

It's weird, but the house seems mostly intact inside. There's dusty furniture, but that's it – there's no sign of the place being abandoned for centuries save for the thick layer of dust. There are no rats, no hints of the Runners having ever been here, nothing. Somehow, it's like they're archaeologists entering an ancient tomb; Jim, despite the exhaustion and worry, feels a pleasant kind of thrill as he looks around each room they walk into. 

'This is how they used to live,' he whispers, mostly to himself. 'This is amazing.'

He's seen abandoned human dwellings before, of course, but none of them had been as untouched as this spacious house. Generally, Runners took whatever they could salvage from places such as this: wood, fabrics, electronics, scraps of everything that might be useful in a colony. But they never found this place, for one reason or another. They never got inside the big house covered up to its roof by layers and layers of snow from three sides but not the front; they never found the stack of books on the little table by the bed, or the cat toys scattered everywhere, or the collection of small resin figurines, or the wine cellar, now mostly frozen where at one point it had been flooded.

'I could stay in here,' Jim says to Spock when they sit close together on the bed (it's not broken or damaged in any way; just dusty, but Jim's used to dust, he figures there's always plenty of dust in your life when you live underground) and share the thermal blankets and body heat. 

'You could not,' Spock replies softly. 'You would soon grow restless. You are an explorer, are you not? You would not flourish in one spot. After the novelty wore off, you would desire to seek out new places, new adventures if you will. Would you not?'

'I suppose so,' Jim agrees reluctantly. He sighs. 'If we can't save the planet, will you take us with you?' He asks, because it's what's on his mind. Fear of abandonment has never entered his thoughts before, and yet now he can't help but wonder: will the Vulcans leave without a word if their case proves hopeless? Or will they fight to drive the Klingons – or whoever – off, to return the planet to its original state, to restore humankind? It's not their fight, but Jim needs them to stay.

Needs Spock to stay. 

'Why did you pick me?' He asks when Spock doesn't answer the previous query. 

He doesn't expect a reply to this either, and yet he receives one, soft and calm and true, just before he falls asleep: 'Because I heard your voice. I was at my station when I heard you calling my name. Impossible as it was, the sound was clear in my mind. I had to find you. I did find you, _t'hy'la_.'

Jim sleeps and dreams of tall ships and stars to drive them by.

 

* * *

 

There's something wrong with the air when they move out a few hours later. It's chilly and still and doesn't smell right. Jim doesn't know how he knows, but he does; Spock apparently shares his opinion, because moments later, as they hear a female scream, he orders Jim to hide and, for good measure, pushes him into the snow. 

He's running before Jim has time to react. His movement is fast, graceful despite the heavy layers of clothing. When he clashes against the opponent, it's like he's a predator hunting his prey, dangerous, fast and strong. Jim can't help but come closer to watch. 

But Uhura's team catches his attention instead. He sees Sulu, bleeding through the thermal uniform, but still standing; he supports Chekov, whose mask seems to be malfunctioning, because his chest rises and falls rapidly and he's going to choke soon. Marcus is down, her left leg folded in a weird angle, most likely broken, but she seems to be alright beyond that. Uhura, though, does not; she's unconscious in Scott's arms, a great amount of blood forming a puddle around them and Jim can easily see that her arm is severed, the gaping wound still oozing blood, thick and red, and she's going to die at this rate.

Jim sneaks up to them and asks, 'Shit, what happened?'

'That guy,' Sulu replies, because Scotty is too busy trying to stop Uhura's bleeding with a make-shift bandage of cloth and rags they must have found and scavenged on the way. 'He's not fucking human, I don't know _what_ he is, he came out of nowhere and got us all in one hit.'

He panics when he looks up at Jim, who wastes no time taking off his complex-issued gas mask that he's not even using for anything other than protection against the wind; the high-tech filters are not even active. 'What're you doing, you're going to die, you bastard!'

Jim just shakes his head and quickly helps Chekov swap the masks. When the kid can breathe again, Sulu looks both horrified and relieved, but Jim's no longer even standing there because he needs to assist Spock; he doesn't know how, but he cannot leave Spock to fight alone, not when the adversary is some _creature_ that got rid of the best team of Runners as though it were swatting flies.

But when he reaches Spock, he notices his assistance is not needed; Spock's opponent is down, dead or unconscious, he can't tell. Spock is standing above the humanoid creature and breathing heavily, emerald-green blood dripping slowly down his face from the gash on his cheekbone. He wipes it away with the back of his gloved hand and stares at Jim.

'I told you to remain hidden,' he says blankly.

'No, you didn't,' Jim argues. 'You threw me into the snow. Now shut up about it and tell me what's this bastard, and is it dead?'

'This is a Klingon warrior,' Spock replies and proceeds to check if Jim is okay by casually looking him over. 'You are not hurt?'

'What could have hurt me, trees?' Jim asks, mildly irritated. 'Shove it, no, we need to get Uhura back to the complex. She's going to die otherwise,' he mutters and finally feels the fear creep up on him. 

She's going to die because of him, because he brought the map that started all this. She's going to die. She's going to...

'I already signalled to my ship,' Spock says urgently. 'Jim, my people will locate the team. It is the best chance for Miss Uhura. We need to press on.'

'Press on where?' Jim demands.

So Spock explains. About nerve pinches and touch-telepathy and mind-melds, and the information stored in the defeated Klingon's mind. About the bunker which is not an ancient, legendary armoury, but _the central point_ , the location where the main computer is stored. About how the theory was right and the nuclear winter is just an artificially created nightmare, meant to lead the human race to complete extinction. About the entrance and the code and how George Kirk died because he _found it_.

They go.

(Things will never be the same again.)

 

* * *

 

It's close, and it's hidden well, and there's snow inside. Jim watches Spock quickly drop two more Klingons effortlessly, using the element of surprise. They get on the round, glass elevator that is so unlike anything Jim's ever seen before, but is apparently completely normal where Spock is from; the Vulcan enters the code nicked from the first Klingon's mind and they are going down, fast, descending to the deepest level of the bunker.

There's a computer. At least, that's what Spock calls it; Jim thinks it looks more like a giant wall of diodes and buttons, too complicated for a mere human to comprehend.

'My mother designs far more advanced machines,' Spock tells him and the corner of his mouth twitches slightly upwards in an almost-smile. He's – excited, Jim understands, and he feels the same. His hands are shaking and he can't help but grin. 

They're going to change everything.

'I can set it to self-destruct,' Spock announces after a few minutes of typing in codes on one of the consoles. 'When this system fails, all the others will collapse without the data sent from here.'

'Well what are you waiting for? Do it,' Jim urges him. Spock opens his mouth to say something in reply and then, all of a sudden, a pain like nothing he's experienced before pierces Jim's whole being. Then he's being thrown against a hard surface. He hears Spock's enraged cry and he sees him as he rushes to fight the enemy that appeared so suddenly. But there's no time. More can come at any moment now. 

Jim acts. 

He knows bits and pieces about computers, he could maybe hack one of the systems in the complex if he tried, but this technology is far too advanced, so he goes with his gut. It's easy to press random buttons, ignore the warning messages and just break everything. Just like that time when he broke the life support functions in the colony for a few minutes. The scolding he got! But it was an accomplishment. It proved he was good at something. Even if it was just destroying things. He was worth something. 

He blacks out.

The next thing he registers is a the snow around them, the glass elevator, the exit in front of them, the two fallen Klingons and pain, more pain, concentrated in his chest. He can't breathe. It's as though he can feel the radiation burning his lungs again. He looks down at himself and sees it, the piece of sharp steel – a pipe? Or something? - embedded in his ribcage. It's not bleeding much. It just hurts. It just hurts.

'You are going to be okay,' Spock tells him and moves him gently, cradles him in his arms like a mother would a child. 'I need you to stay conscious. We cannot stay here; you have set the self-destruct mechanism. We only have minutes, Jim,' he continues speaking. It's calming. It soothes the pain. His voice is deep and smooth... it's good. Jim likes it. 

'Hey, sweetheart... It's alright,' Jim says in a hoarse whisper. He's aware, in the back of his mind, that he's beyond salvation and he's sure Spock knows this as well. After all, the Vulcan does nothing but hold him, clutch him close to his chest, telling him the healers are on their way – telling him words of comfort, meant for either one or both of them. He's not carrying Jim out of the deadly trap they're in. He's not letting go.

 _Vulnerable. So vulnerable,_ Jim thinks fondly. _So human._

'Did I do well?' He asks and instantly coughs, then notes how curiously red his blood looks on the snow, how prettily it contrasts with the never-ending white. 

How the snow begins to melt.

'You have saved your planet,' Spock replies and if Jim didn't know him, he would have been certain his voice was breaking. Emotion. Spock is showing emotion for his sake... or because of him.

'You saved my friends from that Klingon,' Jim smiles at the memory still fresh in his mind. 'That was kinda cool.'

'You would have done the same thing,' Spock says and brushes a stray lock of dark blond hair from Jim's face.

Huh. He never got around to cutting it, after all. 

'I simply calculated my odds of success to be significantly higher than yours,' Spock continues.

Jim laughs, then coughs again. It's so damn painful, and of course it's painful, there's a damn steel rod driven through his chest. But it's bearable, somehow. His skin tingles where Spock touches it with bare hands and for some reason, this makes it all fine. He's almost content.

'I calculated m' odds to be higher here,' Jim says. 'You lack m' destructive powers,' he jokes weakly. 

He's cold. But around them, the snow is melting.

'I am scared, Jim,' Spock admits softly, barely audible even in the absolute silence of the bunker. 'I am scared of losing you. All my life, I chose not to feel emotion in order to better fit in with my people. Yet, right now, my control is failing.'

Jim touches his hand with his own, lets his fingers draw circles on Spock's palm. He smiles up at the Vulcan, brushes their index and middle fingers together in a gentle caress. 

'This is how Vulcans kiss,' Spock says, reciprocating the intimate gesture and Jim feels warm and safe. 

There is an explosion beneath them, the world shakes and Jim closes his eyes. 

'You need to go, sweetheart,' he commands. 

'I do not wish to leave you,' Spock protests. 

'Hush, it's illogical if we both remain,' Jim admonishes. 'Go. Now,' he pleads. 'I need you to survive this. When the snow melts, everyone's going to need you. Will you restore this planet to what it used to be? For me?'

Spock is silent for a moment and Jim thinks that he's given up, that he intends to stay here. But as the second explosion, this one much closer, resounds, Spock lets go of him. Jim slumps down against the wall, the movement almost tearing him apart with pain that he wants to - needs to - hide. He puts everything into the smile he gives Spock at that moment – all his love and hope and the dreams of stars that he desired – because of the two of them, Spock needs it more. 

'Punch it,' he whispers when Spock is long gone, and then the last explosion shakes the walls and everything ends. He smiles and closes his eyes. He doesn't open them again. Maybe he dreams of this: 

Outside, the snow melts as the gentle sunrise shines upon the human beings who finally have the courage to face the world that belongs to them. Uhura and the others are okay, they all return to full health under the care of the Vulcans. In time, the Earth will return to its former glory, no, it will surpass what it once used to be. Humanity will rise again, but this time, there will be no war, no hatred and destruction. There will be peace, there will be creation and wisdom. Spock and his people will lead them, teach them, and make sure that humankind is never left alone to face the dangers of the universe without allies again.

Eventually, humans themselves will reach the stars. 

And it all started with Jim Kirk. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Hey Sweetheart challenge on LJ. 
> 
> It's not as good as it could be, were I a better writer, but I hope someone's enjoyed this story anyway. It just wouldn't leave me, this idea, and before I knew it, I had the whole plot outlined. It should have more words. It should be this epic multi-chaptered novel with thousands of words. But I'm really not that good, so it is what it is. 
> 
> I'm sorry it's not very sweet or Valentine-y. I might be incapable of writing happy endings. At least the requirements are met: the "sweetheart" part is there alright.


End file.
